


Intimate Spaces

by avyssoseleison



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (But they will not go through with it), Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, An Asexual Person In a Sexual Situation, Asexual Castiel, Asexuality, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Blow Jobs, Castiel Has Self-Esteem Issues, Chubby Dean, Crying Castiel, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dean Has Self-Esteem Issues, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Fluff and Angst, Jealous Castiel, Kissing, M/M, Miscommunication, Self-Esteem Issues, Soft Cocks, Uncomfortable Sexual Situation, Virgin Castiel, Virgin Dean, mentions of switching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-28
Updated: 2014-09-28
Packaged: 2018-02-19 03:02:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2372081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avyssoseleison/pseuds/avyssoseleison
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Castiel are finally on their third date, and Castiel knows what is expected of them to do. Namely, each other. But the problem is: as much as Castiel loves his boyfriend, he has no interest in becoming sexually intimate with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Intimate Spaces

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to the wonderful [FagurFiskur](http://archiveofourown.org/users/FagurFiskur/pseuds/FagurFiskur) for helping me work through this mess! ♥
> 
> This fic was supposed to be for the Asexuality Supernatural Week, but I am way too late, of course.
> 
> Dean and Cas are around 16-17 years old in this fic, which is considered Underage in some parts of the world.

Castiel was anxious. Although he should have been ecstatic.

He has had a crush, ever since the very first day of high school. When he had been standing confused in one of the many unknown hallways, searching for the right room until he was approached by a beautiful boy his age, with the brightest green eyes and the most adorable freckles, who soon became his best friend.

That is, his so-called crush had turned into something more rather quickly. Even if he and the boy – Dean – weren't spending all day at school together because of their different chosen classes, they still sat together in the odd room. Sometimes, they even snuck out for a 'proper burger' during lunch break, dashing away in the Impala. The latter was usually Dean's idea, of course, but Castiel always came along. He loved seeing Dean laughing out loud in victory and in relief that they managed to sneak out unseen (except for that one time when Principal Singer had caught them) and in anticipation of the delicious burgers they were about to have. Dean was always lovely, but especially so during those times.

Castiel would have been happy to spend the rest of his days pining from the distance. Maybe it actually wasn't that great a distance, but he still always felt far from Dean even when they were together, when they were sitting close but not touching each other, simply because those inches between them might very well have been hundreds of miles. At least he thought he would have been happy with his role as a simple observer, a lone and self-pitying admirer, until the day Lisa Braeden asked Dean out.

Castiel liked Lisa, very much so, and he liked Dean, so he probably should have been happy for them. Still, as he had been standing there beside them in the empty corridor, with the question of whether Dean would like to go on a date with her still hanging heavily in the air and with Dean yet to give an answer, he wasn't happy. In fact, he had been struck by overwhelming sadness and then an anger he hadn't ever felt before and which he wasn't overly proud of – because not only was this anger directed at himself, the plain idiot who thought he even had any right to be sad, but also and especially at Lisa, for daring to try to claim Dean for herself. His mind screamed at her and at himself, and he would have liked to bring those screams to the surface, from deep within, but he couldn't. She didn't deserve that, not those words and those thoughts, because she was a lovely person, just like Dean, and if anything, she probably deserved him, too. It wasn't her fault that Castiel had a pathetic crush – _not just crush_ – for so long, and he knew that he wouldn't have been able to make Dean happy. For many reasons, but there was one that stood out the most.

One that made him see that he would lose Dean. To Lisa, and if she wouldn't stay, to any other person. One who wasn't as broken and prudish as him, one worthy of Dean's attention. Yes, he was going to lose Dean, eventually or right then, and there was nothing he could do about that.

So instead, he had been standing stock-still, waiting with bated breath for Dean to answer her, Castiel's hands clenched, staring at her, until he wasn't staring anymore because his vision was swimming. He had barely noticed, but then he was shaken from his own stupor when he couldn't see anything anymore and a sob fought its way out of his throat, making him sound like a child who had never learnt to keep quiet when crying. The sob drew Lisa's gaze on him, and then Dean turned around, his eyes widened and his whole face open and worried, and Castiel loved him so, and Dean cupped the side of his face so gently, asking what was wrong over and over again. But Castiel, ashamed beyond anything, couldn't do anything but keep on sobbing, choking out Dean's name and clinging to the comforting touch he offered.

Dean had embraced Castiel that day and had said something to Lisa that Castiel didn't register but that made her leave, and then he drew Castiel into a nearby closet where he held him for a long time, shushing him and petting his hair, rocking him as if he were the child he had acted like. Once Castiel had calmed down, Dean had asked him in a soft voice about what had happened, and Castiel had brought forth his miserable confession with his voice still rough from crying. He had told him about his feelings and about how much he liked spending time with him and about how he hadn't meant to embarrass Dean in front of Lisa, because he deserved to go on dates with her and kiss her, and that he was deeply sorry for falling in love with Dean when he so obviously didn't feel the same way, and that he was sorry he had broken their friendship.

Dean had kissed him then, soft and chaste, and promised that everything would be okay and that nothing was broken. That he wouldn't have wanted to date Lisa because there already was someone he was interested in: the boy in his arms. And then he had asked Castiel out on a date.

This had been four weeks ago. Castiel was still deeply ashamed of the scene he had caused, and he had apologized to Lisa afterwards. She had only waved him off with a smile and had told him to have fun on their date. Castiel felt even worse after that, because for a moment there, he had thought terrible things about this kind girl, but he was also relieved.

Dean and Castiel had been on three dates, with the third coming to an end just now. He was sitting in the passenger seat of the Impala in front of Dean's house that was empty for the night, kissing the most beautiful boy and stroking his hair and embracing him with one arm, and he was afraid. Because he had seen all those Hollywood movies, he knew what being on the third date entailed, and that exact knowledge was what had kept him from being honest about his feelings towards Dean before; because he was broken. He knew that he had to have sex on the third date, otherwise, they would break up, because not doing so meant that he rejected the other. He probably would have been able to deal with having sex that one time, even if he had never desired to sleep with another person before and even if the thought of doing those things made his beat pound violently, and not in the way he knew it was supposed to. But if he had to do it with anyone, he would have liked to do this with Dean. Yes, he would have preferred to sleep with him in the most traditional sense, just leaving the day behind around each other, maybe kissing until their eyes closed for the night and their breathing went deep and slow, but he knew that the price to pay for that would be to sleep with Dean in the sexual sense. Which, yes, he would have been able to accept if it didn't mean that he knew that this wasn't the end of it – that there would be much more sex in the future, that it wouldn't ever stop, that he was probably expected to do this a few times a week. Sometimes even without the luxury of being held and falling asleep afterwards, because he knew what some of their fellow students did in one of those closets Dean had calmed him down after the incident with Lisa; there surely wasn't much time to cuddle after a so-called quickie in the closet.

And that was exactly why he was afraid to go that next step – because he couldn't turn back. He would always be expected to have and _want_ sex, that this was something people did to be close to each other. He wanted to be close to Dean, he really, really did, but he still didn't feel good about it. In fact, there was an immense part of him that was in turmoil, that refused to do this kind of thing and wanted him to tell Dean that he couldn't. That this must be the end of their relationship and that he had really liked their time together, but he couldn't give him what he wanted. There was another part, though, one that built up on exactly the fact that he had liked to spend so much time with Dean – _loved_ it, actually, in the same way he loved Dean – and that revolted at the idea of letting him go. It told Castiel that having sex was a small price to pay for happiness, and if it not only meant Castiel's happiness but Dean's as well, it would be selfish not to give him this.

Castiel let out a sound that might have been a whimper, confused and pained by the thought of losing Dean and of having to have sex, and Dean apparently misinterpreted it because he hummed into Castiel's mouth and started stroking up his thigh until he almost reached his crotch. Castiel felt himself being half-hard in his pants.

"You wanna take this inside?" Dean asked, voice low and rough, and he sounded beautiful like this, absolutely gorgeous, and Castiel decided that he wanted to satisfy Dean and that he would never let him go. He knew that he would forever regret it if he lost him now because he was too 'vanilla', as his friends always called him.

"Yes," Castiel said, trying to keep his voice steady.

Dean's answering soft and slightly dazzled smile already made everything worth it, Castiel decided. "Awesome."

Dean was eager to climb out of the car and run around it to open Castiel's door and help him out, too. He took his hand, his smile still fixed in place, and Castiel couldn't help but smile back despite the way his throat seemed to close off. An uneasy feeling seated itself deep in his guts, and he felt himself starting to sweat, even on his hands. Dean seemed to notice, but instead of pulling his hand away and rubbing it on his denim with an expression of disgust on his face, his smile turned a bit crooked and he let out a small breath. "Yeah, I'm pretty nervous, too. I never have... y'know..."He made a gesture that made no sense in itself, but Castiel understood that he meant to imply that he was a virgin as well.

 _Nervous._ Castiel considered this. Maybe this was all there was to it. Surely, it must be normal to feel nervous when never having had sex before. Maybe it was common not to think of sex as something pleasant or something to understand the need for and how it related to loving a person if he had never experienced it before – maybe he had to acquire a taste for it, like it was with coffee. After all, how could he think of it as pleasant or understandable if he never have done it before? It made sense. Maybe he would start to think of being taken by Dean, or taking him, with something different from an uneasy clench in his stomach once he had been taken or done the taking. Maybe other people did this for being held afterwards, too, and society didn't accept that people who were a couple simply laid next to or tangled around each other, especially not naked (because he wouldn't mind seeing Dean naked or touching him then, just not like this), unless there was something sexual involved. The movies certainly did suggest so. Naked characters seemed unable to restrain themselves to keep their hands off each other, especially if there were some men involved. So maybe he had just taken everything the wrong way – he often did. People tended to call him socially akward, after all. He should have thought of that before. That he was just nervous.

He squeezed Dean's hand and offered him a faint, reassuring smile. "Me neither, Dean. You are my first."

Dean didn't seem to stop smiling all the way up to his house and when opening the door and only replied with another "Awesome" under his breath. He did seem nervous, even when pressing Castiel against the door for another round of kissing, which Castiel liked very much. And when he led him up the stairs to his bedroom, Castiel could feel Dean's hand trembling a bit.

He wanted to soothe Dean's worries away.

Dean locked the door of his bedroom behind himself, even though no one was at home. His mother had gone on a weekend trip with a girlfriend, Dean had told Castiel, to a spa, and Sam was spending the night at a friend's house. They were all alone, and Castiel couldn't say whether it made him any more or less nervous.

Dean cleared this throat and stepped up to Castiel, who had remained standing close by the door. Dean's hands were still trembling when he gently put his arms around Castiel and pulled him closer to his firm body. Castiel relaxed into the familiar and welcomed touch, hiding his face in his boyfriend's neck.

"I'm so glad to be here with you," Dean confessed in a whisper, and it only made Castiel's stomach tighten.

 _It's only nervosity,_ he told himself. _It's normal. Dean feels it as well. Everyone does._

"Me, too," Castiel mumbled into the warm skin of Dean's neck, and Dean seemed to like that. So Castiel started moving his lips over the skin, a mixture of kisses and breathing, and the slightest hint of teeth.

He did like the way Dean wiggled in his embrace and then gently pulled him with him towards the bed. Despite his anxiety rising again, Castiel didn't stop his ministrations on his neck. Not even when Dean gently laid him down on the mattress and followed after him, blanketing Castiel with his body.

Castiel liked the weight of him. He liked how firm and present and safe he felt against his own body. He thought that he would like to fall asleep like this, with Dean covering him completely with his body and covering Castiel's neck with his own kisses like right now.

Castiel felt a bit unsure again when Dean started opening the buttons of his dress shirt, but he did nothing to stop him. He didn't mind the prospect of being naked in Dean's presence as much and he surely wouldn't have minded Dean being bare before him. Because Castiel recognized that Dean was beautiful, aesthetically as pleasing as no one else, inside and out, and to have Dean so vulnerable and open with him sounded wonderful. He wanted to touch his bare skin, stroke it and kiss it and make Dean feel safe in his embrace, cradle him to his chest and fall asleep with their warm and naked bodies as close as they could be without entering each other.

That latter one was the problem, though; Dean probably would want to proceed by entering him, or vice versa, or by trying to bring both himself and Castiel to climax, within the same space Castiel would have liked to claim for his own craving of intimacy. Which he would only receive after giving Dean the kind of intimacy he desired, he knew.

Dean sat up with an easy grin on his face and wiggled out of his own shirt and his pants, leaving both of them bare-chested and Dean naked except for his socks. Dean looked over Castiel, his face, his throat, his chest, while Castiel did the same, taking in the naked figure of his boyfriend's body, gorgeous and aroused. Dean seemed like he wanted to say something, but he instead just breathed out something akin to a chuckle. He was happy.

Dean's smile pressed against Castiel's open mouth, his tongue licking into it and eliciting a warm feeling all over Castiel's body. Dean was so gentle and tasted so good and it was nice to know that he wanted Castiel so much – that he wanted him at all. Especially because it seemed so strange to Castiel, and he wished he could feel the same way for Dean. That he would have thoughts about his boyfriend that were more along the lines of how he would like to have sex with Dean instead of simply wanting to caress him. But maybe that was something that was to come with having sex, too. Sure, Dean seemed to already feel that way, making happy noises in the back of his throat and making his kisses grow fervent, but maybe Castiel was simply a late-bloomer. Dean was happy and excited enough, unable to keep the grin off his face, and Castiel couldn't help but smile in return. Obviously encouraged, Dean gently bit Castiel's ear lobe and fumbled his pants open, mumbling something or another about how lucky he was to be with Castiel.

Yet, when Dean pulled down Castiel's pants along with his briefs and sat back to most likely take a good look of his boyfriend's crotch, he frowned. Castiel knew why, and he was embarrassed by it; he wasn't hard. If anything, his cock seemed to be in the beginning states of arousal, but it could barely even be considered half-hard, and it was a far cry from the thick and stiff erection curling up towards Dean's soft stomach.

"Cas?" Dean asked, suddenly sounding very unsure. Of course. Dean himself had claimed to be nervous, but his nervosity had given way to visible arousal by now, and he more than likely had expected the same for Cas, that his body spoke of the same desire for his boyfriend, that he was relaxed enough by now to allow their closeness to make him grow hard and aching.

"Dean," he simply replied, not knowing what else to say.

Dean sat back on his haunches, looking over the tense body lying in front of him.

"You're not turned on," he assessed out loud, in a mixture of bewilderment and hurt.

Castiel swallowed hardly. "I am."

"Uhm, no, you're not. Unless you got a really small dick that stays soft all the time, you're not turned on."

Castiel clenched his eyes shut and slightly arched his back in an attempt to make himself look more enticing, just to keep Dean doing what he had started, instead of getting even deeper into this conversation. "Please, Dean."

"Please what? I don't even know what you're asking for." His voice was devoid of any anger, still that bewilderment clinging to it, and especially the hurt. The last thing Castiel had wanted was for Dean to hurt.

Castiel remained silent, arching his back some more, which elicted a growling sound from Dean, which Castiel took as a good sign until Dean pressed his palm against his sternum and pushed him back down. "Stop that." He immediately retracted his hand. "Talk to me, Cas. Please. At least look at me."

Unwillingly, Castiel opened his eyes, and the exact same hurt in Dean's voice was also clearly visible on his face.

"I don't know what to say."

"Yeah, well, maybe start with why you're stiff as fuck all over except for that one body part where it counts."

Castiel flinched at that, and Dean immediately shook his head and grit his teeth. "Sorry, I didn't mean to say that. It's just, fuck... what's going on?" He rubbed a hand over his face and his eyes. Castiel noticed that by now, Dean's erection had gone down for a tremendous part as well. "Is it... is it because of my belly?" Castiel stared at him, now the one to be bewildered, but Dean didn't look at him. "I know that I've become chubby ever since Mom has started making pie every weekend. I know, okay? I got a belly, like some old man, and it's not very attractive, but I hadn't thought that that would be this much of a problem, that you'd--"

"Dean, no," Castiel hastily interrupted him. "This has nothing to do with your body. I know how much you love pie, and I am very happy that you let yourself indulge, because this is something you rarely do. If anything, I think it makes you look even more beautiful." They both blushed faintly at that, but it was the truth, and Castiel realized that this is what was paramount right now. The truth. He never should have assumed that Dean, giving and gorgeous Dean, wouldn't try to look for the reasons for Castiel's state in himself. Of course Dean would think that this was his fault, which was unbelievably far from the truth.

"What was it then? What did I do wrong? Was I too tender? Would you like it better if I touched you rougher?"

Castiel huffed out a laugh at that, unable to hold back by how adorable his boyfriend was. "No, Dean, I'm just..." He thought about what he could say. _The truth_ , he reminded himself. He could admit to how he had never had any thoughts about seeing his boyfriend naked, how he had never desired to lay him out before him and take him apart bit by bit. But he knew that Dean would take this the wrong way – how could he not? If he knew that the boy who had been pining for him for years now clearly didn't want to have sex with him despite his feelings, how could he not see it as a jab against his body? Because clearly, Castiel desired him as a person per se. And if Dean had already reacted to Castiel not having a proper erection like he did just a few moments ago, how would he react to Castiel telling him to not wanting to have sex with him, ever? Not only would he leave him, but he would also be severely hurt and see the fault in himself. Castiel couldn't take that chance. "...nervous," Castiel finished lamely and with a weak smile.

Dean looked at him sceptically. "That so?"

"Yes. What else would it be?"

Dean considered this for a moment until he sunk slightly into himself. "It's actually okay, y'know." Castiel frowned in question. "If you wanna wait with sex until I cut back on the pie a bit and maybe go running in the mornings. It's a physical reaction, I guess, you can't help thinking that I'm not... attractive."

No, no, no, this was the exact opposite of what Castiel wanted. He shook his head fervently and sat up, taking his boyfriend's wrists in a firm grip. "I am only nervous, Dean. You are beautiful. Your personality, your face and your body are very beautiful indeed. I would not wish to change anything about either of these, because you are perfect in every way imaginable."

Dean's face was flaming red by now, and Castiel was satisfied. Especially when he noticed Dean squirming in his grip, his cock thickening again. This was how Dean should be.

Castiel grew bolder, seeing as how Dean seemed to enjoy being held firmly, and so he forced Dean's arms still while he descended in his sitting position, to gain access to the adorable little pudge of Dean's belly, pressing light kisses on it and starting to suck the moment he felt Dean's erection bumping against his chin.

Yes, this, this he could enjoy. With Dean staying still, he felt much better about the whole act. Not that he disliked Dean touching him, but in those touches tonight, there had been a sexual expectation that could not be shaken off, and he knew certain reactions had been anticipated. Such as growing hard. But if he couldn't do that, he could at least take care of Dean, could touch him and bring him satisfaction and maybe he would be okay with only that happening. Forever. Sure, that thought was an unpleasant one again, because it raised images of him taking up the position as some kind of one-sided masturbatory device, being discarded once Dean was done, whether with his orgasm or with Castiel in general, but he refused to entertain that line of thinking for too long. Dean wouldn't use him. There was no doubt in his mind about that.

In fact, Dean was already trying to reciprocate. He was squirming harder than before, with intent now, and begging Castiel to let him go and let him suck him down and make him feel good. Those words made Castiel's own cock twitch a bit, and maybe that was the way to go; maybe Castiel needed to hear those kinds of words to get fully excited. Maybe he _did_ need a bit rougher handling. Maybe he should let Dean take back the reins.

With one last playful bite to Dean's soft tummy, adding one more reddish mark to the ones all over his skin now, he laid back again. Dean was on him in an instant, spreading his legs to gain free access to the cock that was still nothing more but half-hard, though still in a better place than before, and he immediately took all of Castiel into his mouth.

Castiel cried out in shock. The wetness and heat and the pressure of Dean's mouth were too much, and not in a good way; it made everything too real, and he felt torn open and vulnerable and felt a surge of need to pull Dean off him and hide his crotch and every sensitive place he has. He didn't want to be touched there, felt his bodily reactions warring with the overwhelming sense of his mind revolting against having to do this, breaking himself so open, and _he couldn't do this, he couldn't do this, God help him, he just couldn't do this._

The sob tore itself out of him without him meaning to. Just like the tears suddenly spilling all over his cheeks, in accordance to the shudders shaking his whole body now, a pathetic parallel to how he had reacted when Lisa had asked Dean out. He felt Dean pulling off him, losing any contact with his body as he withdrew, and it only made Castiel cry harder, because it was what he wanted and at the same time, it really was not.

Lisa would have been able to give this to Dean. Lisa wouldn't have started crying when touched in intimate places (and why did Castiel cry so often recently when he was usually not one to?). Lisa would have known what to do to satisfy Dean, and she would have liked doing it. Lisa, kind Lisa who didn't hold a grudge even though Castiel had ruined her asking Dean out, would have made Dean very happy, and he would have been able to do the same in return. But Castiel took that chance away from Lisa, and from Dean, and he probably should offer that Dean should just take him home and then drive on to Lisa to make the most of the rest of his Friday evening, but instead, he just laid there, staring up at Dean with wide, teary eyes, willing him to understand that he loved him, despite it all, that he wanted to give this to him, he really did, but that he just couldn't. He simply couldn't.

And that thought made him cry even harder.

He buried his face in his hands, in shame and desperation.

"Cas," Dean's voice filtered through, and he sounded deeply troubled. Of course he was. He had just tried to have sex with his boyfriend for the first time, and instead of being taken care of well and properly, he had him crying beneath him, and Castiel was now the one who needed being taken care of – again. Why was he so useless?

"Cas." Dean's voice was closer now, though no surer. Through his tears and the space between his fingers, Castiel could see him hovering over him, his hands outstretched as if wanting to touch him, but not knowing whether he was allowed to. All the hurt and confusion from before were back on his face, plain as day, even worse than before. Castiel should have just stopped when he had the chance to. He shouldn't have gone on the third date, not even on the first; he should have just kept his mouth shut and his eyes dry when Lisa had asked Dean out. Dean didn't deserve to be rejected like this. No one did.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I'm so sorry," Castiel choked out pathetically. Despite of how much he shouldn't have and how much he didn't deserve to, he reached out for Dean's hands that were still hovering in the air. And Dean reached back, drawing him closer to himself, though not as close as Castiel did when he pressed his nude body against his and hid his wet face in the crook of his neck. Just as selfishly as before, he wanted to keep this for just a moment longer, enjoy the closeness of someone as beautiful as Dean up until the inevitable break-up.

"Cas, what's going on?" Dean's voice was soft and he sounded scratched open.

"I'm sorry, Dean. So very sorry," he sobbed out.

"I know, you said that." Castiel felt him press a light kiss into the crown of his hair. "Don't worry, I know."

"I'm sorry."

"It's alright, Cas. Just... what's is up with you?"

That was a good question indeed. Although Castiel didn't know a good answer to that, he surely knew an honest one. "I'm broken, Dean. I have a crack in my chassis. I am _useless_." It was true. So unbearably true.

"Woah, woah, woah, babe." Dean pulled him from his neck to get a look at Castiel's face. He must have looked like a mess -- he surely felt like one. But the use of the pet name still warmed him. "What are you even talking about? You sure as hell ain't useless, no matter what's going on right now, lemme tell you that. And you're. not. broken."

"I'm not how I should be."

Dean frowned at him. "And how do you think you should be?"

Castiel averted his eyes. He needed to tell Dean now, but not only would he hurt himself, he would also hurt Dean, which made all of this so much worse. "Wanting."

"What?"

"Desiring."

"Stop talking all cryptically and look at me, please." He tilted Castiel's chin back up, so that Castiel had no chance but to look into those bright yet confused eyes. "What do you mean, man? This is about the same thing as before, right?"

Castiel nodded.

"So, what is it? You changed your mind about my pudge?" Dean's words didn't hold the same self-resentment as before, and Castiel was glad that maybe Dean had come to believe him a bit when he had been kissing and sucking his tummy. That he had accepted that Castiel adored his body the way it was, that he was just as beautiful with or without a belly. His words now almost sounded like he was joking, which was good.

"I didn't." He sighed deeply. This would be the moment of truth, the moment he would still look back on years later with the deepest of regret filling him. He took a big breath of air. "I don't want to have sex with you."

Dean's brow furrowed and his lips curled downwards with hurt. "Yeah, I kinda got that."

"It's not because of you."

Dean let out a bitter laugh.

"I mean it." Castiel fixed him with an earnest gaze. "I know that this is what they usually say in the movies if there is the implication of the partner actually being the reason, but that's not it, Dean. I am, I do... I don't feel any sexual attraction." Dean didn't look much more convinced bythis. "Even though I do find you aesthetically pleasing and the most probable person I would be attracted to, I believe, if I did feel it, sexual attraction, that is." He knew he was starting to babble, but he needed to make Dean understand. "Sex makes me uncomfortable, it's... I thought I might want it with you, because I love you and I want to be with you for however long you would have me, but when we started, I wanted nothing but stop. I like kissing you, I liked touching you, but when I realized that sex would indeed be following, I just wanted it to stop." He raised his gaze, pleading, begging Dean to understand. "But it has nothing to do with you, Dean. Nothing at all."

Castiel breathed out a shuddering breath and stared at his still-boyfriend. Hoping for he didn't even know what. Maybe for Dean to let him down gently; to not call him a freak or a prude. For them maybe having the chance of remaining friends after all of this – maybe the fact that Dean had had Castiel's cock in his mouth might make things awkward in the beginning, but he had faith in them overcoming this. If Dean wanted to.

Dean just nodded slowly, and despite everything Castiel had feared he would do or be in reaction to his words, he seemed very calm. A final kind of calm, but not with the finality of him reaching a decision of this being the end of their relationship, but the end of wondering. It was the finality of having an epiphany.

He hummed lowly.

With a soft smile that crinkled the skin around his eyes, Dean lifted his hand and traced Castiel's cheekbone with his index finger. When he reached his hairline, he kept on going, tenderly stroking the shell of Castiel's ear. Castiel just stared at him and his serene expression, transfixed, until the smile of Dean's lips curled into words, "I think you you might be asexual, Cas."

Castiel, who had been expecting him to tell him about them having to accept that they had to go separate ways now, just stared at him full of disbelief, silent.

Dean nodded again, as if to himself. "Sammy told me about this kinda stuff. He was also the one who got me to understand about my bisexuality after the day with Lisa, when you told me about my feelings, because I knew that I liked girls, always have, but I also knew that what I felt for you wasn't so different from what you did for me. They don't teach that shit in school, but you know Sam, he's in the know about that kinda stuff, all liberal and whatnot." His expression turned even fonder, softened with the pride Castiel knew Dean held for anything concerning Sam. "He gave me stuff to read. About bisexuality and being gay and and not having the right body for your gender – and did you know there's a biological and a mental gender? – but also about people having romantic tendencies that can be separate and about people being asexual. Which is different from, uh, aromantic, which means that they don't get romantic feelings for someone, and asexual means you don't get sexual feelings."

Castiel still kept on staring at him, stunned by the way his issues were suddenly falling into place, taking a shape he could grasp, could put a name to. _Asexual._

Dean grinned in embarrassment. "You wanna say anything in return? I don't wanna talk shit just 'cause I read something. I don't know if that's really the case, and hey, if you've come to the conclusion your feelings for me might not actually be romantic and that's why you don't wanna keep going – and there is a term for that, too –, we could just-- "

"No!" Castiel interrupted him, because despite his confusion about his sexuality, there were no doubts about his feelings for Dean. "I love you, Dean, I do."

Dean's grin widened even more. "Sure of that?"

Castiel nodded solemnly. "Absolutely. Even if I don't have any sexual fantasies about you, I have many fantasies about staying with you forever."

It was Dean's turn to hide his face in his boyfriend's neck. "That's... that's really good, Cas. Me, too." The gentle kiss on the skin of his neck made Castiel shiver, but in a warm kind of pleasure, not the heated one he had tried to force on himself before. So did the soft laugh Dean let out. Castiel knew it was a laugh out of relief, because he, too, felt it; like a great weight had been lifted off him, the tension that had been so thick the whole evening finally cut.

"But... is that something you would even want? Being with me, that is. Now that you know that I am... asexual?" The term sounded unfamiliar on this tongue, but right nonetheless. "I understand that you have certain needs. I understand that I could not possibly expect you to stay abstinent for your whole life, especially as you have never even had sex before. I couldn't possibly expect that of you."

Dean lifted his face from Castiel's neck again, his features serious and without the loose edge from before. "Why not?"

Castiel frowned deeply. "'Why not'?"

"Yeah. Why the fuck not?"

Castiel shook his head just so. "Because... it's important?"

"You are more important."

"It's essential. To human beings. Especially if they are male."

"That's bullshit." Dean cupped his face in his hands. "You know it is." He pressed a tiny kiss on the tip of Castiel's nose. "I don't need to get off if I get to be close to you. What's essential to me is having family and friends. Someone I love." He smiled at Cas. "I want to make you feel good, in any way I can. And if having sex with you is making you fucking _cry_ , Cas, then I don't want it. But I still want you. I'm not kidding when I say you're important." He rubbed the tip of his own nose over Castiel's forehead before kissing him there, too. "No one outside my family has ever been so important to me, Cas. I wanna be with you, forever, just like you do. I know we're real fucking young and maybe things are gonna change, but if I can say anything like one-hundred percent honestly right this moment, it's that I love you, too, and that I want to stay with you, Cas. I don't care about sex, I don't care if I'll stay a virgin for my whole life, as long as I get to spend this life with you."

Castiel felt himself tearing up again, for different reasons than before, and he heard the slight choke of Dean's voice as well. "Really?"

Finally, Dean pushed his lips on his, kissing Castiel long and tender and ending on a smile. "Yeah, really."

Castiel smiled, too, and he noticed how Dean's face lit up even more when he saw.

They kissed for a few moments, just enjoying the way their lips pressed against each other, with the knowledge that what they were doing right now was something they both most definitely wanted. Just like they wanted to stay together, even if they would have much to figure out about this later on. Right that moment, they both were happy, and that was what counted.

An uncertain amount of time later, Dean pulled back again, stroking his hand through Castiel's hair, his lips spit-slick and perfectly red and curved into a smile.

"Uhm, so, what would you like to do right now?" Dean gestured towards their still naked bodies. Castiel blushed helplessly. He had almost forgotten about their situation, about what they had been about to do; Dean's kisses had that effect on him, making him forget the world around him.

"I would like to be held by you and... sleep... if that's possible." He knew his voice was small, but he couldn't help but be tentative when he proposed something so childish and naive.

Dean, though, only nodded. "Good. Week actually wore me out quite some, I gotta admit." As if on cue, he yawned. It was likely he actually did feel tired after having had so much testoterone pumping through his veins mere minutes before, Castiel assumed. "You wanna put on some clothes?"

Castiel would actually have preferred it they stayed naked, because he wanted to caress Dean's skin, now even more than before. He wanted to kiss it and fall asleep feelings its softness and warmth. But he did see that this would have been unfair towards Dean, so shortly after they had intended to have sex for the first time. Maybe another night. "Yes, please."

After pressing one more kiss onto his lips, Dean left the bed to retrieve some pyjama pants from one of his drawers. He shyly put on some fresh underwear, a t-shirt and his pants, then gave Castiel the other pair and a dark shirt with a stylized bat on it. Castiel smiled thankfully and covered himself.

Dean returned to the bed once they both were decent again and smiled in what must have been hesitation. "How you wanna do this?"

While Castiel didn't know exactly how far they would go in the future, this, he knew. He opened his arms in a silent invitation, which Dean took up easily after turning down the light. But that was all Dean did; he left Castiel to rearranging Dean above himself and about how close their bodies were actually pressed against each other, settling in the most comfortable position for the night, sharing a pillow and their bodies' warmth. Dean let him set the pace.

Castiel felt safe in this knowledge, but his mind still wasn't entirely silent.

"We could... we could try again. Sometime," Castiel proposed into the side of Dean's neck. Because he pathetically, selfishly wanted to instill hope in Dean, to give him a reason to stay with him. Just because Castiel didn't want to have sex meant that Dean would never have to, too, no matter what he said. He could compromise, he knew. Even if he had failed this very evening, it didn't mean that he would always do so. Maybe he could get used to it.

Dean, though, only chuckled and pressed a soft kiss against his forehead. "Maybe," he replied. It sounded strangely dismissive, but maybe that was just the comfort of the bed and another body making him sleepy.

"I am serious, Dean."

"Yes, I know. That's why I said _maybe_ . Maybe we will, maybe we won't. It's not important. _You_ are more important. I wouldn't like to have sex with you if you don't enjoy it yourself – I would enjoy _bringing_ you pleasure, but if that's not possible, sex with you doesn't hold that much of an appeal to me. It's more important that _you_ feel good – not that just _I_ feel good. And I won't feel any worse if we don't have sex, so we're both good." He smiled in the darkness. "Capiche?"

Strangely enough, Castiel did. "Yes, I capiche." Because if he had learnt anything about Dean Winchester in those last few years and weeks, then it was that he did indeed enjoy making other people feel good. Castiel thought that his own state still wasn't the most important one, but he understood; he himself wouldn't have been able to enjoy getting his own pleasure for the cost of making someone else – a beloved person at that – severely uncomfortable. And he was far from being as selfless as Dean – the way Dean had seemed most happy when he talked about Sam getting an A after he helped him with his shop project, or when his mother had hugged him for a minute after he had made her a delicious pie for mother's day bore witness to that. It was the kind of person Dean was: always giving, taking pleasure from other people's happiness. And Castiel didn't want him to make him take anything else if it it ultimately didn't lead to Dean's happiness as well. Castiel thought that he himself should have taken pleasure in simply giving as well, in finding happiness in the way that Dean would have been glad to have sex, even if he himself didn't like it, but at the same time, he knew that Dean couldn't be entirely happy when knowing at what price his happiness came. It was a loop, one they both apparently were fine to stay in.

But maybe, some day, he could give Dean something, too. Maybe Castiel would get used to this kind of intimacy, maybe he would find a way to give Dean pleasure, maybe they would start to change things.

Maybe.

It wasn't important.

Castiel, reveling in a quiet happiness, pressed a tender kiss against Dean's lips, and Dean breathed out into it, drawing himself even closer into their embrace.


End file.
